One Thousand Galleons
by Morgana5
Summary: A sign proclaiming '1000 galleons to the top-scorer on the NEWTS' turns Hermione's world upside down. Someone else whom she might *love* wants those galleons, but when she gives him the chance to take them, will it ruin everything? see my bio for details
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, I'd be out writing real books, not pathetic fanfiction.  
  
A/N: um, not much to say. Just a piece I wrote thinking about tests and being perfect.  
  
I was walking to the Great Hall when I saw the notice. It was pinned up next to the door.  
  
SEVENTH YEARS! It read. AS YOU ARE AWARE, YOUR N.E.W.T.S ARE COMING UP IN TWO MONTHS. ONE THOUSAND GALLEONS WILL BE OFFERED TO THE HIGHEST SCORER.  
  
Wow, I thought, that's new. They've never done that in previous years. I wonder why? I kept reading.  
  
WE ARE OFFERING THIS REWARD IN HOPES THAT ALL OUR STUDENTS WILL STUDY HARDER, WHEN MOTIVATED, SO THAT WE CAN TURN OUT MORE QUALIFIED WIZARDS, AS THE NEED FOR THEM GROWS EACH DAY.  
  
My eyes widened as I considered the possibilities. If I could win (and I had no doubts that I could) I could do anything! It suddenly occurred to me how many other students would be thinking the same thing. I laughed, realizing that almost everyone would start studying harder than ever. A million copies of me! Except, I wouldn't be studying like a maniac. After all, I've been preparing for my N.E.W.T.s the summer after fifth year.  
  
I was right. For the next two months, I saw people I wasn't sure could even read studying in the library, day after day. Even Harry picked up a book occasionally and half-heartedly studied, although, "I know I'm not going to get it, so why bother?" as he put it.  
  
But there was one person who amazed me with his studying. He never stopped, only to eat and attend classes. Everything else fell by the wayside as Ron Weasley went through book after book, notebook after notebook, cramming information into his brain.  
  
"All for the galleons?" I asked him one afternoon. He looked at me and nodded.  
  
"Yeah. Since Dad got fired for not supporting Fudge, we've been living off of what Charlie and Bill send home, but they've also got to support themselves. It's beginning to look like we won't have enough to send Ginny to school next year. I just can't let that happen, Hermione. Although," he said, attempting to shrug nonchalantly and failing miserably, "you'll probably win anyway, so I'm wasting my time." He tried to laugh, but it came out far too high-pitched. I was amazed. Ron actually cared that much about his family that he would sacrifice all this time and effort, when he knew he would lose to me?  
  
The week of testing drew nearer, and my conversation with Ron stayed in my mind. I knew I would win those galleons, because I was the smartest in my year. I just knew, as I always have. But usually, I also think I deserve my status. Suddenly, I didn't, somehow. Why did I want to win? Because I had a drive, motivation, that was always pushing my farther and farther ahead, and a burning need to be the best. Ron needed that money. He needed it.  
  
We were in the middle of our last test, Transfiguration. I knew for a fact that Ron and I had each gotten only one wrong on one test. We were tied. I stared at the last question on the page. It was a simple one: The incantation "Abrevious Tinetium" is used for what spell? The answer was a) the spell that transforms someone into a midget. I looked at Ron on my left.  
  
He was squinting at his paper, straining to remember everything. He shut his eyes, then opened them, and stared at the last question. "One more," I could almost hear him thinking. I saw him mark down the correct answer.  
  
Right then, I realized, Ron deserved those galleons more than I did. A lot more. He had worked much harder these past two months, and for a better cause than I ever had. And though it took a lot of willpower, I circled answer b, and, with one simple motion, forever lost my title of the smartest student at Hogwarts.  
  
A/N: well, this was originally going to become Ron and Hermione fluff, but didn't exactly turn out. Please review, I need reviews, they are my life support. Don't cut me off! 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. If you sue me, my parents are both lawyers, so I'll be safe. I hope. I also hope that last part annoyed you, whoever left that flame.  
  
A/N: To the person who wrote the "Get a fucking life. . . ." review: To some people my profile and fanfiction may sound really bitchy, and whatever, think what you want, I don't make your opinions. But you are exactly the kind of person that really pisses me off. You leave a review that tells me how pathetic I am, and then you don't sign it or leave an email. If you ask me, that's pretty bloody pathetic. If you're going to criticize me, at least let me know who you are, so I can read some of your stuff, or your profile, and see why you're so much better. But you're too cowardly to face me, so you leave an anonymous review. Also, if I wanted pity, I have a plenty of friends who would listen and give me pity, but they don't understand, because they're not in my shoes. So I didn't put all that up for pity. And if you think I want people to "bow down to my 'oh so perfect' ways", you're pretty far off. Maybe you didn't quite understand my point when you read my profile- I'm tired of people thinking I'm great, and that I have no reason to be upset, and that I'm perfect. I just want to be able to mess up and slack off once in a while. I really hope YOU would reconsider, and at least leave a second review that's signed, after reading this.  
  
To my other readers: You're great, and I love you, don't think any of that was to you. If you think I over reacted, I'm sorry, it just really rubbed me the wrong way, considering my life at the present moment. Anyway, a couple people asked for a second chapter, so I'm going to make one. I wasn't going to originally, but Jishka gave me a great idea.  
  
For one blissful week, Hermione, Ron and Harry all forgot about their N.E.W.T.S. At least, Harry did, and Hermione tried, but it was quite apparent that they were always on Ron's mind. It was as if he were in Limbo, waiting to see if he would make it to heaven, or if he would be exiled to hell.  
  
The warm days were spent by the lake and on the quidditch pitch, flying and lazing, and just mostly avoiding schoolwork. Even Hermione seemed glad of the break. Out in the sun, with her friends, she could forget everything about her N.E.W.T.S. and just relax. It was helping her to let it all go, her hard-earned title and her pride.  
  
One morning, six days after the last test, both Ron and Hermione received letters from big barn owls at breakfast. Hermione's read:  
  
Dear Ms. Granger,  
  
I would like to see you at one o'clock this afternoon, regarding your N.E.W.T.S.  
  
Sincerely yours, Professor Dumbledore.  
  
And that was all.  
  
Hermione stared blankly at her letter, wondering what was going on. She had purposely lost! Why was Dumbledore summoning her to his office? It didn't make any sense.  
  
Apparently Ron's letter said the same thing, because he wore the same confused expression as Hermione did.  
  
"Why does he want to see us?" Ron wondered out loud.  
  
Harry shrugged. "How should I know?" Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"I wasn't asking you." He faced Hermione. "Yours IS a summons, isn't it?" She nodded.  
  
"Why does he want to see both of us?"  
  
"Maybe you tied?" Harry offered. They both glared at him for even suggesting such a thing, Ron because it would mean more tests, Hermione because she wasn't sure if she could bear to have to give it all up all over again. Harry backed down. "Or not. Maybe there's something for second place." This suggestion was slightly more acceptable, and both Hermione and Ron nodded.  
  
"That must be it," Hermione decided, feeling relieved. Ron still looked pretty uptight, but he smiled.  
  
"Hope five hundred galleons will do it," he said rather halfheartedly.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "How do you know I'll win? You studied really hard, you know, and you worked really carefully on your tests." Ron waved this comment off.  
  
"Not as hard as you. But it doesn't matter." With that, Ron got up and strode out of the Great Hall, hands in his pockets, whistling and making it quite clear that it DID matter. Hermione turned to Harry.  
  
"He's mad at me, isn't he," she said quietly. Harry shook his head.  
  
"Not really. Mad at himself is more like it. He's mad that he can't ever beat you, but he knows it's not your fault." Hermione desperately wanted to tell Harry that Ron HAD won, but she knew it would be ruined for him if he knew she let him win.  
  
Harry and Hermione returned to the Gryffindor common room to play chess, but it wasn't really any fun, as they weren't concentrating very hard. Neither of them was much good at chess anyhow, and it was something they normally associated with Ron. It all combined to make the feeling rather dismal.  
  
Harry looked at his watch. 12:30, it read. He pushed his king towards Hermione. "I forfeit," he said. "I'm absolutely starved." He got up and headed out the portrait hole.  
  
"Wait up," Hermione called. "I'm coming too." Just as they were finishing up lunch, Ron appeared in the entrance of the Great Hall. They waved him over, and he came and sat down.  
  
"Hey," he said, seeming to be in slightly better spirits. He began to wolf down a sandwich, and was halfway done with it before he realized that it was corned beef. "Ugh!" Ron spat it out onto his plate. Hermione wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Ron, please. That's disgusting. You could use a napkin or something." Ron glared at her and took a big swig of his pumpkin juice.  
  
Harry suppressed a laugh. "Where've you been?" he asked.  
  
Having sufficiently erased all taste of corned beef, Ron answered him, "Walking around the lake. The weather's nice, if a bit windy. Say, Hermione, pass me that chicken sandwich, will you?" Hermione passed it to him, then turned to Harry.  
  
"What's the time, Harry?" she asked.  
  
"Ten to one," he replied. "You two had better get going." Ron stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth before standing up.  
  
"C'mon, 'Ermione," He said thickly through his mouthful.  
  
Hermione got up, and together they walked to Dumbledore's office. When they arrived at the gargoyle statue, however, Hermione realized they didn't know the password.  
  
"What do we do now?" She asked, annoyed.  
  
Ron shrugged. "Wait, I guess." Hermione gave him an icy look.  
  
"For whom, may I ask?"  
  
"Dumbledore, Miss Know-it-all," he said, raising his eyebrows. "He's expecting us, isn't he?" At that very moment, Dumbledore appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, behind Hermione. She whirled around.  
  
"Professor! Sorry, I-" she stepped to the side. "We didn't know the password," she finished. Dumbledore looked at her out from under his bushy white eyebrows.  
  
"It's quite all right, Miss Granger," he said. "Perhaps we should step up to my office? Cockroach Cluster." The gargoyle twisted, and a spiral staircase appeared. Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione all stepped onto the staircase as it began to move upwards. Moments later, they stepped out into Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Please," Dumbledore said. "Sit down." He motioned at two chairs facing his desk. Ron and Hermione sat, and Dumbledore disappeared. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.  
  
"What do we do know?" Ron mouthed at Hermione.  
  
"Wait?" she suggested. He nodded, and they both chose opposite directions to look in, every once in a while glancing back at each other, then looking hastily away.  
  
During his walk, Ron had brought himself to terms with the fact that he had lost. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up like that. It was just that he had felt so confident, like never before. He almost always went into tests unprepared, and came out feeling rather queasy and not caring about his grades. But this time. . . .it had been different. He had really studied, and he had really cared. His family needed that money. But it had all been for naught. Hermione would win, just as she always had. Maybe he would get some sort of award. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he maintain his control and not let on that he cared.  
  
Hermione, meanwhile, was getting worried. What if they were wrong? What if she didn't get second place? She was steeled to get second. She was ready. If they were tied, and had to take a tie-breaker test, Hermione didn't know if she could lose all over again. It had been difficult to summon up the courage once; twice might very well be impossible.  
  
"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, as you read in your letters, this meeting has to do with your N.E.W.T.S. scores." He paused and looked at both of them. "You tied."  
  
A/N: Well, I've got a great idea to draw this out a lot longer than the one chapter I had originally intended! Review and I'll write more! 


	3. Chapter Three

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, at Dumbledore, then back at each other.  
  
"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "I tied Hermione!" He turned bright red when Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at Ron. "Sorry, Professor," he said sheepishly.  
  
"Oh no," Hermione said under her breath, but Dumbledore heard her.  
  
"What was that, Miss Granger?" It was Hermione's turn to blush. She was caught. She had to deny the galleons now, before Dumbledore came up with some other plan that she couldn't say no to. Now or never, she told herself.  
  
Clearing her throat, Hermione looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. "I don't know what you have in mind, Professor, regarding the galleons, but I've got something to say." Dumbledore nodded at her to continue. Hermione glanced at Ron, who was staring at her, before she spoke again.  
  
"I don't want the galleons." There, she had said it. But Dumbledore and Ron were looking at her rather oddly, so Hermione elaborated. "I mean, I know I've worked hard for the past seven years. But Ron, he deserves the galleons a lot more than I do. All these years, I've just been working for the recognition, you know? But Ron, he needs those galleons. I don't. He's worked so hard these past weeks, and for a lot better cause than I ever have. So just let him have the galleons. He deserves them." Hermione stopped and looked at Ron, who was red with anger and embarrassment. He was glaring at her.  
  
"Think you're so noble, don't you," Ron hissed as he turned on his heels and ran out of Dumbledore's office. Hermione looked at Dumbledore.  
  
"What. . . ?"  
  
"Admirable sentiments, Miss Granger, but put across the wrong way. You have hurt his pride, and Mr. Weasley considers that a most serious offense." Hermione's shoulders slumped. Ron was right, Dumbledore was right. It had come out the wrong way, and now Ron was mad at her. Worse, it was her fault. Hermione hated fighting with Ron, but she especially hated it when it was her fault.  
  
"I guess I'd better go, Professor," she murmured, and turned and fled down the spiral staircase. She was halfway to Gryffindor tower when she ran smack into someone.  
  
"Watch where you're going, mudblood," a cold voice drawled. Hermione looked up, her vision blurred by tears held in.  
  
"Leave me alone, Malfoy," she said quietly, and attempted to walk around him.  
  
"Not so fast. Heard you and the Weasel got summoned to Dumbledore's office. Are you finally getting expelled?"  
  
"I told you to sod off, Malfoy," Hermione said edgily.  
  
"Although, come to think of it, Potter wasn't with you, so it can't be expulsion. Ah, is the mudblood upset? She seems to be crying," Malfoy continued, smirking.  
  
"I'm not. Just leave me alone, or I'll-"  
  
"You'll what? What can a little bushy-haired mudblood like you do to me, hmm?"  
  
"Ten points from Slytherin, and if you don't get out of my way, I'll make it twenty," Hermione declared, showing Malfoy her Head Girl badge. He sniffed at her and wrinkled his nose, walking in the opposite direction as her.  
  
"I smell blood- MUDblood," he called after her.  
  
"You've always got to have the last word, don't you, Malfoy," Hermione muttered to herself. As if her day wasn't already ruined. Although, she wasn't crying any more. Malfoy had taken care of that. "House elf," she added as she reached the Fat Lady.  
  
The portrait swung open, and Hermione climbed in, intending to go up to her dormitory and read. However, she was stopped by what seemed like the entire Gryffindor house.  
  
"Hermione Granger!" Squeaky first-years called. Ginny pushed her way to the front.  
  
"Have you heard?" She asked.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously not." Ginny's eyes widened.  
  
"You're not going to like this. . ." she said.  
  
"Ginny! What?" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"It's Ron. And Harry. They just. . .left. Ron stormed in here, motioned for Harry to follow him, and they went up to the dormitory. They didn't come back down, so twenty minutes later, Neville and Seamus went up to look for Ron, and they were both gone! The window was bolted, and everything seemed ordinary, but, but, it was like they had. . .APPARATED or something." Ginny stopped for breath.  
  
"Ginny, how many times do I have to say it? You CANNOT apparate in Hogwarts," Hermione said, gritting her teeth in annoyance. Of course, she knew what had happened. Ron had been angry and embarrassed, and he didn't want to talk about it in front of everyone. So he and Harry used Harry's invisibility cloak to sneak out. But she wasn't about to say that- the cloak was still a secret.  
  
"Do you know where they went?" Ginny asked anxiously. Hermione shook her head, feigning cluelessness.  
  
"I'm going to go have a look around," she told Ginny.  
  
"Bye then," Ginny replied, waving. Hermione pushed her way to the front of the crowd, as she fended off questions.  
  
"Did You-Know-Who kidnap them? Is he gonna get you?"  
  
"I heard you and Ron are fighting. Did you vaporize him?"  
  
And the most absurd: "Oh no, Hermione! I was right all along! You ARE You- Know-Who in disguise! Could you do this to us?" Hermione rounded on the frightened second-year.  
  
"Honestly! I am NOT You-Know-Who, I did NOT vaporize Ron, and, as far as I know, Harry, Ron and I are not presently in any danger of being kidnapped. Good afternoon!" And with that she stormed out of the portrait hole to look for Ron. 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Not mine, gtg, I'm in a rush.  
  
A/N: Hope you like this part! And a huge thanks to Jishka for reviewing so much and the suggestions. I really appreciate it! Luv ya! Thanx!  
  
"Oh, come on Ron, it couldn't have been THAT bad. After all, she wasn't intending to be rude or anything," Harry said, attempting to make Ron see reason. Ron, however, wasn't buying it.  
  
He furiously kicked a stone before saying, "You know Hermione, she can be rude without trying. For the brightest witch in our year, she's awfully clueless when it comes to manners." Harry rolled his eyes. He knew this drill; Ron came to him complaining about Hermione every two weeks or so. Truthfully, Harry thought Ron often got mad at Hermione for the stupidest things, but that was just his opinion. It was tedious, but Harry always managed to help them get back on track, even though it often involved doing painful things. Like posing as Ron's punching bag, for instance. At the moment, they were standing by the edge of the lake, and for a May night, it was freezing.  
  
"Hey Ron? Maybe we could continue this conversation inside, where it's a bit WARMER?"  
  
"She might overhear us or something," Ron hissed at Harry, looking seriously annoyed that Harry hadn't been listening to his rant about why he hated Hermione.  
  
"Too late," a familiar voice said. "I already have." Harry and Ron whipped their heads around.  
  
"Hermione!" They both cried with false brightness. She snorted.  
  
"Honestly. Like I don't have ears, or something." Both boys exchanged embarrassed glances, although Ron still managed to look incredibly angry. "But Harry's right, Ron. You two should come inside. Everyone thinks Voldemort kidnapped you or something. Pretty soon on of the Creeveys is going to report you missing." THAT got their attention.  
  
Hermione started walking briskly towards the castle, Harry and Ron hurrying to catch up.  
  
"Can you believe her?" Ron whispered to Harry. "Bossing us about like that, like she's a queen or something!" Harry shook his head.  
  
"Not now," he mouthed. "We'll talk about it later."  
  
They walked the rest of the way in silence, Ron fuming inwardly, Harry feeling rather irritated at the fact his two best friends were fighting again, and Hermione angrily muttering. She hadn't DONE anything, at least not intentionally, and she had come down here ready to apologize, but NO, stupid Ron and his ego were in her way. Well, fine, she thought, he'll just have to deal with it himself. She decided to ignore him.  
  
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Three days later, neither Hermione nor Ron had heard anything about the galleons and who would receive them. They had both avoided each other for the last ninety-six hours, but Hermione was getting sick of it. At breakfast, she sat down right next to Ron and smiled at him.  
  
"Sleep well?" she asked. Ron scowled.  
  
"Bugger off," he said irritably.  
  
"Hello Harry!" Hermione called, waving at the boy approaching. He looked slightly confused. Hermione and Ron were sitting next to each other, and she was smiling. What was going on?  
  
As he got closer, though, Harry realized that it was all Hermione's doing, for Ron was glowering at his plate, determined not to smile or look at Hermione.  
  
"Hi Harry," he said, pointedly ignoring Hermione. "Hogsmeade tomorrow!" Harry nodded enthusiastically. It was a Friday, which had put him in good spirits. If it weren't for Double Divination, Harry would thoroughly enjoy Fridays. Still, it was the best day of the week, in both boys' opinions.  
  
"Can I come?" Hermione asked brightly.  
  
"No," Ron said vehemently, and Harry looked at him, clearly thinking, 'What the hell is your problem?' Ron grinned at Harry, again pretending Hermione wasn't there. "Want to go down to Hagrid's this afternoon after classes?" Harry looked helplessly at Hermione, because though he didn't want to hurt her, he really did want to see Hagrid.  
  
"Oh, go on Harry," she said angrily, losing it somewhat. "Go ahead, I don't care. Not like I expected you to side with me anyway. After all, I'm a GIRL. Have fun at Hogsmeade too, while I think of it." And with that she got up and ran out of the Great Hall.  
  
Ron sighed rather happily. "At last, I can finish my breakfast in peace," he said. Harry let out an angry breath of air.  
  
"Ron, can't you two just make up? Honestly, you two are always fighting, and I'm ALWAYS caught in the middle. It's our last three weeks of school together, ever, and I just want to enjoy them. Who knows where I'll be next time this year, but not here, that's for sure, and probably not with you guys. So can't you just, I dunno, lighten up on her a little?" Ron banged his fork down.  
  
"Fine, fine. I'll be a bit nicer to her, if she approaches me, but I'm not starting anything myself. And now, between you and Hermione, I have completely lost my appetite. I hope you're satisfied." And, with his hands in his pockets, Ron strode out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry alone. He looked around, miffed.  
  
"Was it something I said?"  
  
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Back up in the common room, Hermione buried her nose in "The Life and Achievements of Rowena Ravenclaw". It was three thousand, four hundred and seventy-two pages long, and nice and thick and wordy. It took a book like that to get her mind off Ron when she was angry with him.  
  
"Hullo Hermione," Ginny said, plopping herself down on the chair next to Hermione's. Hermione smiled without looking up.  
  
"Hi Ginny." She went back to reading, not really wanting to be interrupted.  
  
"Hey, Ron!" Hermione heard Ginny call, and she sensed Ron walk into the common room. Hermione glared at her book, squinting in concentration.  
  
'Rowena Ravenclaw enjoyed reading and flying as a young girl, and along with Godric Gryffindor, was the first to introduce the sport to the students of Hogwarts,' Hermione read. How very interesting, she thought. . . .NOT.  
  
'She also founded the Hogwarts library, and was the co-author of "Hogwarts, A History". . . .' Was it possible that Ron wasn't going to say anything to her, Hermione wondered. Cautiously, she allowed herself to look up over the edge of her book. He was setting up a chessboard.  
  
At that moment, Harry walked in through the portrait hole.  
  
"Oi, Ron, can I play?" He called across the room. Ron shrugged.  
  
"Sure." Harry glanced over at Hermione.  
  
"Want to watch? You can play winner," he bribed. Hermione slammed the book shut, seriously considering running upstairs to her dormitory. However, the fact that Ron was objecting or rolling his eyes at Harry stopped her.  
  
"All right, I guess so," she replied, and pulled a chair up to their table, sitting in between them.  
  
It was a short game, especially for Ron, who often took ten to fifteen minutes deciding what to move. He won, of course, and Harry moved aside for Hermione to take his place.  
  
"Good luck," he joked. Neither of them had ever beaten Ron, and didn't expect to.  
  
"I'm black," Ron announced, and shoved the white pieces at Hermione, who looked at him quizzically. She was always black; he knew that. Probably he was still trying to find little ways to irk her.  
  
"You go first," he prodded. She nodded.  
  
"Pawn to E4," she said quietly but clearly. As the game progressed, Hermione found herself equally matched to Ron- a rare occurrence.  
  
About halfway through, Ron whispered to her, "One thousand galleons to the winner of this match." Hermione's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Fool," she hissed at him. "You haven't got one thousand galleons- at least not yet. Anyway, what a waste that would be." He smirked at her.  
  
"Only if I lose." Hermione shrugged.  
  
"Your loss, then." They continued playing. Soon, Hermione had only her King, a bishop, and a pawn left. Ron sat back and cracked his knuckles.  
  
"Have you got one thousand galleons, Hermione?" he asked softly, smirking again. "Because you better, as you're going to lose." She glared at him, and stared hard at the game board. "You can't beat me at chess- you know that. See? I'll still get my one thousand galleons without you making me look like a fool. The joke's on you Hermione." Think, she told herself, think. You're Rowena Ravenclaw. You're smart. You can do it, you're better than him. Ignore him. Ignore him. Ignore. . . .  
  
Hermione's eyes widened as she noticed the position of his king. If only. . . .Yes!  
  
"Check," she said, grinning at him. He looked at the board and laughed out loud, moving his king to the right, out of the bishop's way. "Nice try," he said, still laughing. Hermione raised one eyebrow.  
  
"Oh?" she asked innocently. "What would you think about that move if I said. . . .checkmate?" She moved her pawn diagonally left, knocking the king down. Ron looked at the board, disbelieving, dismayed.  
  
"But. . . ." he was speechless. Hermione smiled.  
  
"If you owe me one thousand galleons, you've got to accept that award," she said. It was her turn to smirk as Ron's jaw dropped.  
  
"But. . ."  
  
Hermione grinned even more widely. "Joke's on you, Ron."  
  
A/N: you like? Yes no? Well, I had fun writing that chess match. I got to go do homework! Review! 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Are you joking? You actually think I'm trying to steal the work of J.K. Rowling? Are you feeling okay?  
  
A/N: Well, my keyboard is a bit messed up, so I'm sorry this is taking so long to post. I'll try to go as fast as possible! Wait a second. . . .I just fixed it. Yay!!!!! I'm so happy. I still dunno how soon this'll be out though. Well, I'll hurry. Thanks for the reviews, Jishka!  
  
The way Hermione saw it, she had him cornered. He had to accept those galleons, because of his debt to her. Then, she could either demand he keep them, or find some way to trick him into it, without him losing his pride. How, she didn't know, but she'd thing of something. . . .  
  
Upstairs in the boys' dormitory, Ron was pacing furiously back and forth. "She beat me, she beat me, I can't believe she beat me," Ron said to himself, in time with the rhythm of his footsteps. "She beat me, she beat me. . . ." It was becoming some sort of mantra.  
  
"Ron?" Harry stuck his head through the door. Ron's head whipped around. He scowled.  
  
"Go away." Harry ignored him.  
  
"Oh, come on Ron, it was just a game of chess. No big deal." Ron looked at Harry as if he were an angry Snape, and Harry was Neville just after melting his three hundredth cauldron.  
  
"JUST a game of chess?" He whispered menacingly in a perfect impression of Snape. "JUST a game of chess? What are you talking about? Didn't you see? She did it again, she tricked me. Stupid GIRL, always outsmarting me. . .how do you STAND it, Harry?" He was back to just plain old Ron, and he was furious.  
  
"Erm, Ron?" Harry managed to get a word in.  
  
"What?" he demanded. Harry took a deep breath.  
  
"Um, is it possible that you're overreacting?" Ron's jaw dropped and he made a strangled noise of indignation.  
  
"Overreacting? OVERREACTING? Stop trying to play the peacemaker, Harry! Either you're on my side or hers, make up your mind." Ron tapped his foot impatiently as Harry looked torn.  
  
"Look," Harry said finally, "I'm not on anyone's side. I'm sick of being in the middle of you two; I'm sick of Hermione getting mad at me when I side with you; and I hate having you mad at me when I side with Hermione. So I'm just. . .not on a side. I'm . . . .neutral."  
  
"Fine," Ron huffed at him, and went back to pacing. Harry backed out of the room. Had he just blown it? Was he in big trouble with his best friend now? He sure hoped not.  
  
Harry walked down to the common room, where Hermione was curled up with her book.  
  
Hermione looked anxiously up at Harry when she noticed him standing beside her. "What's wrong?" she asked.  
  
He sighed heavily. "Not much, I guess." That made Hermione laugh.  
  
"You look about as miserable as a fish out of water. Come on, tell me. Did you have a fight with Ron or something?" Harry shook his head.  
  
"Not exactly. He got mad when I didn't side with him, and I just KNOW you'll be mad when I don't side with you, which leaves me all alone. Honestly, I'm always in the middle of you two when you fight, and I'm really sick of it. REALLY sick of it." Hermione looked at him curiously.  
  
"But why? I mean, I know it's hard when Ron and I aren't talking, but you can still talk to both of us, and it never lasts very long, so. . . .why?" Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"Because it's so STUPID," he said. "I mean, it's obvious to everyone BUT you two that you like each other, and. . ." Harry blushed bright red and his eyes darted nervously around the common room, which had gone silent. "Erm. . .did I just say that out loud?" He asked tentatively.  
  
Seamus walked up to Harry and Hermione and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Yep, Harry my mate, you did say that out loud. And Hermione? Hate to break it to you, but it's true. Trust me, it really is." Hermione glowered at him, and then, after he left, at Harry.  
  
"Maybe we could finish this discussion elsewhere?" she hissed at him. "Like, maybe somewhere where no one will hear us?"  
  
"Meet you in the library after dinner, then," Harry whispered back. She nodded and went back to her book, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Now the entire house thought she had a crush on Ron, thanks to Harry. Well, she'd just have to set him straight. She, Hermione Granger, most certainly did NOT have a crush on Ronald Weasley, of all people. Harry was just a little confused, is all, she decided. Once he heard her out, he'd talk sense.  
  
That settled, Hemione continued to read about the life of Rowena Ravenclaw, which was really quite fascinating.  
  
Fool, Harry berated himself. Idiot, mug, imbecile. He hadn't MEANT to say it out loud; it had just. . . . . .slipped out. By accident. Furthermore, now his two best friends were both angry with him. Absolutely spiffing.  
  
Ron sat on his bed, feeling much calmer. If he could just make it through dinner without having to talk to either Harry or Hermione, he could sleep it off. Things always looked brighter in the morning. Ron got up. Ignore him, ignore her, he repeated over and over in his head. Ignore him, ignore her. Ignore him, ignore her, ignore him, ignore her. . . .  
  
Hermione watched from under her eyelashes as Ron descended the stairs, his eyes carefully focused on the portrait hole. Ignore him, she reminded herself. Ignore him, ignore him. Fighting with him again would only make it worse. Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him. . . .  
  
Harry chanced a sideways glance at Hermione. She seemed to be scowling. He mentally slapped himself. Why had he gone and said that? He asked himself for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past half hour. If he could just make it through dinner, he could talk to her in private. Until then, he'd just have to ignore her. He looked over at her again. Ignore her! Ignore her! Ignore her. . . .  
  
Harry jumped up and followed Ron out the portrait hole. He didn't bother saying hello; Ron was quite obviously not talking to him, so Harry kept his distance. As he was walking, he passed Professor Dumlbedore in the hall, who reached out a hand to stop him.  
  
"I have been meaning to congratulate you," the headmaster said. "You did very well on your N.E.W.T.S. Thirteenth in your year, I believe." Harry nodded his thanks and continued down the hall, reminded of why this whole argument had started. It was all so ridiculous, really. If Hermione hadn't tried to act all noble, and if Ron could've just accepted the galleons, none of this would've happened. Ron and his pride, his stupid, stupid pride. Then Harry thought of something. Hermione had pride too, a lot of pride. So why had she so willing given up the galleons to Ron? It wasn't like her. . . sure, she probably would've given Ron half or something in the end, but to say right away, you take them, I don't want them? It wasn't like her.  
  
Come to think of it, Hermione had been acting kind of odd about the whole thing. Winning the galleons back again in that chess match. . . .Harry shook his head, completely confused. He'd just have to ask her in the library.  
  
Dinner was a quiet affair, as neither Ron nor Harry was talking to Hermione, or her to them, or them to each other. They ate in complete silence, except for one rather unfortunate incident when Neville sat down by them.  
  
"Hi, Hermione," he said eagerly. "Can you help me with that Potions essay? I really don't understand why the archinoke reacts with the ethereall." He looked at her helplessly. Hermione shook her head.  
  
"Perhaps you should ask Ron. After all, HE won the galleons, not me." Neville looked quizzical, then turned to Ron.  
  
"Ron?" He asked tentatively. Ron, too, shook his head.  
  
"Tell Hermione that I did NOT win those galleons." Neville looked utterly confused.  
  
"Why don't you tell her?"  
  
"I don't talk to people like her."  
  
"Neville, please inform Ron that I do not talk to people like him either," Hermione cut in. Neville got up.  
  
"I think I'll go ask Seamus. Are you sure there wasn't any kind of potion slipped into your dinners?" With that, he got up and left in a hurry.  
  
At last Hermione couldn't take it any longer. She pushed her plate away from her, and got up. Harry gulped. Time for his talk with her in the library. Oh joy.  
  
A/N: Well, I've got to go to bed. Hope you all are liking this, I promise there WILL be fluff. I swear. Also, in case you're wondering, the first chapter, from Hermione's POV, was like a prologue. The rest is third person. Review! 


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: At the present time I do not own Harry Potter, but I'm turning fourteen in thirty-eight days, and I would love it if someone would give me the rights to Harry Potter!  
  
A/N: I'm sooooo sorry that the last chapter was so short and pointless- it was going to be combined with what happens in this chapter, but I didn't have time and I wanted to post SOMETHING. So, here is a longer chapter. Enjoy!  
  
Harry mumbled something about being tired and shuffled out of the Great Hall. Once in the hall, he quickened his pace in order to get to the library without making Hermione wait. Apparently, he hadn't gone fast enough, because when he arrived in the library, Hermione was sitting down and reading her book in their usual section.  
  
"Took you long enough," she said dryly without looking up from her book.  
  
"Well, how did YOU get here so fast then?" Harry asked, annoyed, as he had left a maximum of sixty seconds after Hermione. Hermione graced him with a withering look.  
  
"Shortcuts, Harry, surely you'd know all of them, with that map?" Harry shook his head, trying hard not to laugh. Trust Hermione to know every shortcut to the library! She snapped her book shut. "So, why don't you finish what you foolishly blurted out in the common room." Harry squirmed a bit uncomfortably.  
  
"Well, see. . ." I'll start with Ron, Harry told himself. "I know we're all best friends, but, with Ron and me being the boys and all, well, you know, we're a bit closer. . ." Hermione nodded.  
  
"Trust me, I know."  
  
"So, you never hear what he's got to say about you. He gets so. . . MAD every time you beat him at something, because he ends up feeling bloody pathetic, and he gets enough of that about his family from Malfoy. . ."  
  
"Great Merlin," Hermione whispered. "I must've sounded exactly like Malfoy in Dumbledore's office. No wonder. . ."  
  
Harry nodded. "That was about the gist of it, from what I could tell. And anyway, just the fact that Ron CARES about your opinion is saying something. He wants to impress you, and he always loses, and then he gets mad, because he ends up looking like a fool.  
  
"Then there's you. I know there's one reason you argue with Ron- to talk to him. Seriously. You figure he's always going to be angry with you, so you fight back, just to have an excuse to talk to him. Am I right?" It was Hermione's turn to squirm.  
  
"Well, sort of. . ."  
  
"Remember the Yule Ball, in our fourth year? You went with Krum. Ron was so mad about that, because you were 'fraternizing with the enemy'. . . I told him he needed to work on his excuses after he said that line. Honestly. He was quite jealous, couldn't you tell?" Hermione shook her head wordlessly.  
  
"I never thought. . . ." she stared off into space, then jumped, collecting herself. "I suppose you've caught me. Yes, I've always had a . . . .I don't know, I wouldn't call it a crush, it wasn't something silly and girlish. . .an attraction, I guess, to Ron. In a way, he reminds me of me. You know? So determined. So prideful. He never takes anything from Malfoy, he always stands up for himself. And he never lets himself lose. I never do either. I guess that's why it's been so hard. . . . to approach him, I mean. I think we both felt like if we admitted our feelings we'd be losing, in a way. Coming across as weak. We're both just too stubborn, I guess." Hermione laughed, a hint of bitterness in her voice, her eyes glinting strangely, subtly hinting at tears.  
  
"I think you're right," Harry said softly. "But I also think you're wrong. If you told Ron how you felt, you two would end up together, and that's what you want, isn't it? And if getting what you want isn't winning, I don't know what is." Hermione looked at him, tilted her head, then smiled.  
  
"Thanks Harry. But don't you think for a moment that giving me good advice gets you out of trouble for saying what you did in the common room!" Harry looked panic-stricken. He stood up and started walking towards the front of the door.  
  
"I'll just go now, we can discuss that later. . ." Hermione chased after him, laughing. They both ran all the way to the common room, not caring a fig about teachers catching them.  
  
They burst in laughing. "So," Hermione said in between giggles. "Where is he?" Harry looked around the room.  
  
"Dunno," he said at last. "Still eating?" Hermione laughed at that suggestion.  
  
"Probably. Look, if you don't mind, I think I'll go down and. . .talk to him," Hermione stuttered the last part a bit nervously. You can do it, she told herself.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
After Harry had assured Hermione he didn't mind her leaving, he went up to his bedroom. Having nothing better to do, he took out his Firebolt and broom polishing kit. After four years, they still hadn't come out with a better model. The Excaliber 1776, a remake of a medieval broom, updated of course, had been an utter failure, although Malfoy had been suckered into buying it. Harry had had a good laugh when the broom started losing tail twigs during a fifth year match, causing Malfoy's broom to veer to the left throughout the entire game.  
  
"Don't judge a broom by its paint, Malfoy," he whispered under his breath.  
  
If he was lucky, Hermione would talk to Ron, and they would enter Gryffindor Tower that night as an official couple.  
  
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"Hi Ron," Hermione said cheerfully, causing him to stare. She had just been ignoring him all through dinner. Now here she was, happily greeting him like they were chirpy first years. Huh? He wondered.  
  
"Um, hi," he said, very articulately.  
  
"I found out that I know more shortcuts than Harry," she burbled. "Who would've thought?" In truth, Hermione was nervous. It was one thing to feel brave when she was talking to Harry. It was another to actually confess her feelings to Ron Weasley, in person. It seemed like it was all happening too fast. . .the picture Harry had painted now seemed too good to be true. Failure seemed so much more likely here than in the library. And Hermione didn't like to fail.  
  
"Amazing," Ron said dryly. Hermione's grin faltered. "Oh, come on. You can't expect me to just play along, now that you're through being mad at me." Hermione's eyes turned cold.  
  
"If that's how you feel about it. . ." she started to get up. Ron stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth, determined to ignore her, but at the last minute, he chickened out.  
  
"Wai'," he managed to get out around his potatoes. Much to his dismay, a large chunk fell out of his mouth and onto his plate. Whirling back around, Hermione caught this and started laughing loudly. Ron cleared his throat. "I mean, wait."  
  
Hermione continued laughing. "Honestly Ron! Hungry, aren't we! No need to stuff yourself!" She gasped out. Already blushing, Ron turned even redder.  
  
"Fine then." He pushed his plate away from him, and this time it was Ron pretending to leave.  
  
"No, don't go," Hermione said a bit more seriously. "I had something to ask you. . . .or, well, tell you, maybe. . . ."  
  
Ron looked at her quizzically. Were his eyes deceiving him, or did Hermione Granger actually look nervous? "What?" he asked.  
  
Hermione looked down at the floor, and then at Ron's shoe under the table. "Er. . .well, it's just that. . .Harry was saying. . . oh, who am I kidding, I can't do this," she whispered the last part to herself. Unfortunately, Ron heard her.  
  
"Do what?" Now his curiosity was aroused more than ever. Hermione looked up at him, her expression rather pained.  
  
"Harry said. . . that you like me and I like you," she said in a rush. Ron, whose blush had faded, turned distinctly scarlet.  
  
"Bloody idiot, I'll get him," he muttered, before turning to Hermione. He put on a false bright face. "Well, you didn't believe him, did you? I mean, we all know that I don't like you, and you don't like me, I mean, come on, we argue all the time, it's like, common knowledge, so, where's the confusion? Because it quite obviously is NOT true." Actually, it was quite obvious that it WAS.  
  
Hermione's eyes turned glassy once again. "Yeah. . ." she said softly. "I knew that. I was just. . .making sure, you know. . .I suppose I'd better get up to bed." With that, she rushed out of the Great Hall and up her dormitory, where she flung herself down on her bed and cried.  
  
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Harry was polishing the handle of his Firebolt when a sudden thought occurred to him.  
  
If Hermione and Ron were a couple, he would be a third wheel.  
  
Lovely.  
  
How pleasant.  
  
He could've smacked himself. Bloody pathetic idiot you are, Harry Potter, he mentally berated himself. He didn't want to lose his two best friends, especially not to each other!  
  
Then again, on the other hand, it was quite obvious that they were totally head over heels for each other, and it would be best for everyone if they just ADMITTED it.  
  
So what was his problem?  
  
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That was NOT supposed to go like that, Ron told himself furiously. It always happened this way. He got really close to telling Hermione how he felt about her, and then at the last minute, he chickened out and, not entirely on purpose, managed to get her completely angry with him.  
  
Call him multi-talented, but Ron Weasley felt like an idiot.  
  
Dejectedly, he pushed his mashed potatoes around his plate with his fork. What was he supposed to do now? Sit here all night so he didn't have to face Hermione or Harry? Harry. . . .  
  
He had told! He told Hermione! Ron growled under his breath. Thanks loads, Harry, he said sarcastically in his head. What a mess. At he had someone besides himself to be angry with now.  
  
Ron decided to brave the common room to get to his dormitory, where he was going to yell at Harry and then go to sleep. What a day. What a bloody awful day.  
  
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A/N: Well, that wasn't as long as I would've like it to be, but it had to end there, because A) it was a good stopping point, and B) I need to do my homework. Bloody homework! That's the reason I haven't posted in a while, stupid science project. . .I got about four hours of sleep a night for the past three weeks, it's finally caught up to me. I got really weird today, cos I'm so tired. I hope it didn't affect my writing.  
  
About my writing. . .ahem. Well, I tried my hardest to keep Harry, Ron, and especially Hermione in character. It was hard, I still don't know if I succeeded, especially Hermione and Harry's little discussion. I would really love it if you would review and tell me if I kept them in character, or if they are totally unrecognizable! 


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own Harry Potter.  
  
A/N: All you people who are reviewing- I love you! Seriously, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be writing this at all. Kay, I'm not sure if I really like this chapter. . . I've brought in some more characters, as the world of Hogwarts does not revolve around our favorite trio. . . .so anyway, there's going to be somewhat of a side plot, and it starts in this chapter. Anyway, enough talk. Read  
  
Harry winced as he heard Ron's loud and angry footsteps coming up the stairs. It must've been a disaster, judging by the fact that Hermione had run up to her dormitory in tears fifteen minutes ago.  
  
Ron flung the door open and walked over to Harry, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
"I can't believe you," he said, nearly spitting with anger. "Can't you keep a secret?"  
  
"It was all for the best, really," Harry tried rather timidly. At that, Ron lost control.  
  
"ALL FOR THE BEST? Ha! The best. What a joke," he shouted, swinging his arms around wildly. "Hermione's mad at me, and I'm mad at you. Bloody hell, Harry! All for the best. Ha!" Harry took a step backwards.  
  
"If you would just face the facts," he began, but Ron cut him off.  
  
"Face the facts! What facts? I don't like Hermione. She doesn't like me. Oooh, real difficult, Harry," Ron sneered. Harry stamped his foot, frustrated.  
  
"You do like her, liar, and I know she likes you, I know it!"  
  
"How do you know for sure, hmm?" Ron challenged, his eyes flashing.  
  
"She told me, you git," Harry said, before clapping a hand over his mouth. Hermione hadn't directly said 'don't tell Ron' but it had been pretty obvious that their conversation had been a private one. "Look, pretend I never said that, okay?" Ron held out a hand to stop him.  
  
"Wait just a second. She likes me? For real?" Harry nodded miserably. Now he'd done it. Lost his two best friends in one fell swoop. Congratulations to the Boy Who Lived His Life Without Friends, Harry said to himself.  
  
"Brilliant!" Ron was shouting. "I knew it, I always did! I've got to go talk to her, I've got to apologize-"  
  
"I don't think now would be the best time, Ron," Harry advised, still upset. "She ran up here crying. I take it you had something to do with it." Ron nodded. "Er. . . .I just don't think she really wants to talk to you right now, is all." Ron sat on the bed, sighing.  
  
"You're probably right. She's still mad at me. I must've sounded like a brainless git down there," Ron mumbled.  
  
"What did you say?" Harry asked dubiously.  
  
"I told her that I knew she didn't like me, and that I didn't like her, so we'd never go out with each other. In a somewhat harsher manner." Harry groaned out loud, while cheering inside his head. There was still a chance!  
  
"Nice one, Ron."  
  
"Well, none of it would've happened if YOU hadn't told Hermione I liked her, so this is really all YOUR fault," Ron said, annoyed. Harry gaped at him soundlessly. At last, after a few minutes, Harry managed to find words.  
  
"MY fault?" Harry asked incredulously. "My fault? If you must know, Ron, I never wanted any of this to happen. But I don't expect you to believe that. It's always the same, always. You didn't believe I didn't want to be a Triwizard Champion, and I bet you won't believe me now. But honestly. You really think I'd want to lose my two best friends?"  
  
"What do you mean, lose us? And I DID believe you about the Triwizard thing, eventually. Wait a minute. . . Harry, are you jealous?" It was Ron's turn to sound incredulous, and Harry's turn to be extremely annoyed.  
  
"I am NOT jealous. What gave you that idea? Why would I be jealous of YOU?"  
  
"I don't know, Harry," Ron spat. "I suppose I'm just not quite up to your standards. Not quite good enough for you, eh?"  
  
"No," Harry said furiously. "You're not. I don't want a friend who blames me every time something goes wrong between him and his crush. Just. . .leave me alone, okay?" Harry snapped his bed curtains shut and laid down, breathing heavily. Ron followed suit.  
  
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Hermione sobbed quietly into Crookshanks's fur. "I can't believe I was so stupid," she murmured. "How could I have believed Harry? It was probably his and Ron's idea of a joke. . ."  
  
"Hermione?" Hermione jumped as she heard Lavender's voice.  
  
"Go away," she muttered, pressing her tear-streaked face harder against her cat's back. "Just leave me alone." She really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, especially Lavender, whom she'd never been good friends with since the incident about Lavender's bunny's death in their third year.  
  
"It's my dormitory, too, Hermione. And anyway, you're crying. What's wrong? Malfoy?" Lavender guessed. Hermione shook her head. "You failed your N.E.W.T.S.?" she joked. "Tell me, is it Ron and Harry?" At this Hermione nodded. "Oh, Hermione, don't worry about it. Boys will be boys, and boys can be grade-a jerks a whole lot of the time. You should hear the things Seamus says to me-!"  
  
"But Ron and Harry aren't Seamus, they're Ron and Harry, my best friends, and now. . . .I can't face them tomorrow, I can't, I just-" Hermione broke off, and Lavender frowned.  
  
"Okay, Hermione, spill it. What have they done?" Hermione sighed.  
  
"I don't know why I still have inhibitions about telling you, as everyone will know by tomorrow anyway, but still. . . . it was so humiliating." She looked up at Lavender. "Promise you won't laugh or anything?" Lavender nodded.  
  
"Promise."  
  
"Harry told me this afternoon that he knew I liked Ron- you know, LIKE like. And then, he said. . . .Ron felt the same way about me, and that I should tell him how I felt. He was so convincing! But when I told Ron, he started laughing, and saying that he never liked me."  
  
"Did he blush?" Lavender asked immediately. Hermione frowned, remembering.  
  
"Come to think of it, yes, he did, at least, I THINK he did. . . .but I'm not quite sure. . . ."  
  
"Because if he did," Lavender cut in, "then he really does like you. He's probably just embarrassed, you know? Maybe he thinks you were the one joking, or something. You know boys- they have a strange way of looking at things." Hermione thought back on what she told Harry. Maybe Ron still thought it would be losing, in a way, to admit he really did have feelings for Hermione, after denying it for all these years.  
  
Hermione suddenly broke into a grin. "I think I've figured it out!" she cried gleefully, her former tears forgotten. She got up to go find Ron and talk to him, but Lavender stopped her.  
  
"I don't think now is the greatest time-" Lavender began. Hermione's face fell.  
  
"You're probably right."  
  
"Listen, Parvati and Dean are out on a walk, and I've got no one to talk to..would you mind if I just stayed in here and talked with you?"  
  
"No, I don't mind," Hermione replied. And for once, she meant it.  
  
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"Hey, Ron and Harry, want to join Neville and me for a game of exploding snap?" Seamus asked, bursting into the dormitory. Ron stuck his head out from behind his bed curtains.  
  
"Sure," he replied, leaping out of bed, realizing he was still in his school robes.  
  
"Harry, you coming?" Seamus called in the direction of Harry's bed. There was no reply. Seamus shrugged. "Guess he's asleep already."  
  
"So, looks like it's just you, me and Neville," Ron stated as they walked down the spiral staircase to the common room. Seamus nodded.  
  
"Guess so. Oi, Neville, deal out!" he called. Neville nodded.  
  
"Creevey brothers are joining us," Neville told Ron and Seamus. They nodded, and sat down, forming a circle.  
  
"I go first," Seamus announced, which meant Ron went last. He grinned. It was best to go last.  
  
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Seamus was wrong. Harry was not asleep, nor did he wish to be. What he really wanted was a nice warm mug of butterbeer, but that was out of the question at nine o'clock on a Friday night. Instead, he settled on rereading "Flying with the Cannons" for the ninety-seventh time. However, when he opened it, he saw Ron's message on the flyleaf:  
  
Chudley Cannons rock! Maybe we'll play for them after we're out of school. Cool! Anyway, happy birthday. Ron.  
  
What an idiot I'm being, Harry thought to himself. A selfish idiot at that. And Hermione must think I'm a horrible git. She must think I lied to her! For a hero who saved everyone from Lord Voldemort, I'm not very noble at ALL. I should probably go and apologize to them both right now, Harry thought.  
  
However, it was getting later, and he was tired. He'd just have to deal with it in the morning. And with that, Harry yawned, rolled over, and fell asleep.  
  
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"To tell the truth, I'm kind of mad at Parvati right now," Lavender confessed to Hermione. "When she had a crush on Dean, she was totally best friends with me, but once I set them up and they started going out, it's like I'm not even here anymore."  
  
"That's awful," Hermione said quietly. "To lose your best friend to a boy, I mean." A sudden thought occurred to her. "You don't think. . . .well, you don't think Harry would be mad if Ron and I. . . .went out?" Lavender clapped a hand to her mouth.  
  
"I never thought of that," she said in hushed voice.  
  
"What if he gets mad?" Hermione asked anxiously. She had thought she had it all figured out, but now there was a whole other dimension to this big argument.  
  
"Wait a minute, Hermione. We're forgetting something: Harry was the one who tried to set you up in the first place, right?" Hermione nodded. "Well, then he CAN'T have anything against, not if he was the one who started this whole thing." Hermione nodded, and tried to feel relieved, but couldn't help feeling that it would be just like Harry to put her and Ron before himself.  
  
"Lavender?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"I'm getting kind of tired. Would you mind if I just went to bed?" Lavender shook her head and yawned.  
  
"Not at all. I'm rather sleepy myself."  
  
Hermione changed into her pajamas and slipped under the covers of her bed, pulling the curtains shut. It had been a very strange day, she reflected, from the chess match, to her discussion with Harry, to her argument with Ron. And now she was friends with Lavender. Hermione sighed into her pillow, wondering what tomorrow would hold.  
  
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"Dennis! How many times do we have to tell you, you're out, so go away and leave us alone," Colin cried, annoyed at his pesky younger brother.  
  
"But I wanna play," Dennis whined, sounding more like a five-year-old than a fifth year.  
  
"Dennis-just-shut-up," Ron said, spitting every word out separately. He was concentrating very hard. If he was careful, and played the right cards, the results could be. . . well, entertaining. And he wasn't going to risk messing up because of that stupid Dennis Creevey.  
  
"I'm warning you, Dennis," Colin said.  
  
"Oh, fine," Dennis replied, giving up. He walked up to his dormitory, leaving the four other boys to finish the game. They were on their fifth round.  
  
"I'm telling you, you guys are all fighting a losing battle," Seamus bragged. "I'm the master of exploding snap. You haven't got a chance." He put on a great show of drawing out his card and placing it on top of the deck. "You see? I am the MAS-" he was cut off as the entire deck blew up in his face, leaving him with a charcoaled face and singed eyebrows. Ron let out a great HA of laughter.  
  
"Explosion courtesy of me," he said, bowing and laughing.  
  
"Wouldn't want Lavender to see you like that, Seamus," Neville said between snorts of laughter.  
  
"Whys should I care about Lavender?" Seamus asked primly. Everyone present rolled their eyes.  
  
"Come on Seamus, you can't fool us," Colin said. "We know you've got eyes only for her." Seamus raised one eyebrow.  
  
"Are you sure? Because I can't help admiring Parvati's hair."  
  
"Better not let Dean hear you say that," Ron said warningly.  
  
"Do you really think Parvati would choose Dean over me?" Seamus asked, a smile playing over his lips. His teeth stood out whitely against his blackened face.  
  
Ron shrugged. "How should I know? I'm a guy. All I know is that Lavender sure has got her eye on you, mate. But I understand if you don't care for slender, light-brown haired, violet-eyed girls."  
  
"Oh, that's not it," Seamus said hastily. "It's just that there're so MANY girls who have fallen for me, I can't just pick one!" Colin rolled his eyes as the others groaned.  
  
"Don't flatter yourself or anything, Seamus," he said.  
  
"If you've got so many admirers, how come you're single, then?" Ron challenged.  
  
"Well, you see, it's just-"  
  
"I thought you were supposed to be every girl's fantasy. The 'dream boy'. Are you telling me that the dream boy of Hogwarts is to shy to ask a girl out?"  
  
"No! No, I just. . . can't help thinking. . . .well, she's only. . . ." Seamus stuttered, caught off guard.  
  
"Listen, Seamus," Neville whispered. "Let me give you a clue. She isn't going to say no. You've only got to ask." Seamus nodded. If only that were the case for me, Ron thought wishfully. After the way he'd acted in the Great Hall, he wouldn't be at all surprised if Hermione hated him for the rest of his life. Still, he had to try and apologize, at the very least. Tomorrow. He'd do it tomorrow.  
  
A/N: Well, I dunno if I like this, so it'll be interesting to see if you do. Review and tell me, and I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible, as tomorrow's Friday. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Life goes on.  
  
A/N: Wow, so many people reviewed that last chapter! I'm so happy, I feel so loved! So, I'm thinking about writing a companion fic to this one, after I finish this one. . . you know, maybe one that goes into more detail about the Seamus/Lavender thing, and is told from their points of view. What do you think? Read and Review, as always.  
  
Jishka: Ditto to you, you're my #1 supporter too! Hey that rhymes hehehe. Keep your chapters on When You're Older coming, can't wait for the next one. And email me!  
  
Curls of Gold: It will be out tomorrow! I promise. Well, I can't promise, I might die or something, but I'll try to have this out by tomorrow. So actually, when you read this, it'll be today. . . does that make sense? Whatever. Thanks soooo much for reviewing!  
  
RonsInnerVoice: Yeah, I try really hard to keep everyone in character, it's my main goal. . . I can't stand fanfiction where I barely recognize the characters. And the Seamus thing wasn't at all planned, all the sudden I was just *writing* it, and I was like, hey, cool! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
To everyone else who has reviewed, thanks! I'm not forgetting you, these are just the people who have reviewed multiple times. But thanks all!  
  
On with the chapter!  
  
Ron yawned as sunlight filtered through his bed curtains. Morning already? He wondered groggily. He checked his watch, which he wore at all times, and saw that it was only seven o'clock. Ordinarily, he would've gone back to sleep, but today wasn't an ordinary day. Today was the day he was going to tell Hermione how he felt about her.  
  
He got out of his bed, taking extra care to be quite, so as not to wake Harry. Hermione was reputed to be an early riser, so Ron intended to wash his face, comb his hair, get dressed, and greet her down in the common room before anyone else was awake. He sighed. If all went well, and he didn't lose his nerve, he would be the happiest student in Hogwarts.  
  
Twenty minutes later, Ron was sitting down in the common room, wide-awake and waiting. It was only a matter of minutes before Hermione joined him. He fully expected her to be upset with him, but she seemed to be softly smiling.  
  
"Good morning," he said quietly.  
  
"You're up early," she replied, looking slightly surprised. He nodded and hesitated for a brief second.  
  
"Look. . . about last night," he began awkwardly. "I didn't really. . .that is. . . I didn't mean. . .I lied, okay?" Up to that moment, Hermione's eyes had been fixed on her shoes, but they not looked hopefully up to his face.  
  
"Do you mean. . . .?" she asked. He nodded, running a hand through his red hair and blushing.  
  
"I. . . .like you. . . okay?" There, he had said it, and even with the knowledge that Hermione liked him back, it had still been the hardest thing he'd ever done.  
  
"You do? Really?" He nodded again. Hermione flung herself at him, hugging him around the neck.  
  
"Oh, Ron, I thought you never would, or at least never admit to it, and I was too embarrassed, but I feel the same, and oh. . . . I'm babbling, aren't I," she asked lightly pulling back from the hug, too soon in Ron's opinion.  
  
"Yeah," he replied grinning. "Look, do you want to go eat breakfast or something?" he asked in an attempt to be polite. Hermione nodded.  
  
"Breakfast would be great," she agreed.  
  
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Seamus groaned and rolled over. Why was he awake at such a horrendous hour of the morning? He wondered. He had heard something. . . . .he listened, and could faintly hear the sound of Neville snoring. No, that wasn't it, he had been dealing with Neville for seven years. The water was left dripping in the bathroom, but again, that was a sound he was used to.  
  
He got up and walked to the door. . .and then, he heard it, plain as the sunlight coming through the window. Someone was crying- right outside his door. He carefully opened it a crack, and recognized light brown hair, straight and fine, rumpled after a night's sleep.  
  
"Lavender?" he whispered, gently pushing the door open wider so that he could step out. The slender girl started, and looked up at him, trying to hide her tearstained face, to no avail.  
  
"Seamus," she whispered back.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he hissed, not wanting to wake anyone else up at this ungodly hour.  
  
At his question, Lavender turned away. "It's none of your business," she said, her reply somewhat muffled by her hands.  
  
"It's MY dormitory," he pointed out. "I do have a right to know why you're crying outside the door of it." She shook her head stubbornly. "Oh, come on, Lav," he said, exasperated. "We've been friends since first year. What's this all about? Come tell Dr. Seamus about it, and he'll fix it all up," he added coaxingly. When he still got no reply, he stood up.  
  
"Fine!" he cried softly, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'll just leave you here, for whoever the next person up is to find." At that Lavender turned to face him.  
  
"It's you," she whispered so quietly Seamus had to strain to hear her. She was turning pink now, he noticed, and couldn't help wondering why he was the cause of her distress, and WHY she was sitting at the door to his dormitory. He decided to go for humor, which was usually his best bet.  
  
"Let me guess. Every single girl you know has fallen for my extravagant charm and stunning good looks, and you are terribly lonely, so you have come to me, seeking comfort and friendship." THAT got a laugh out of her, if only a tiny giggle.  
  
"Not exactly," she murmured. Seamus raised an eyebrow. "It's me that's fallen for you," she said under her breath. Unfortunately, Seamus caught some of it- only, he had the wrong order. He thought Lavender had whispered that he had fallen for her.  
  
He gave a loud shout of laughter. Lavender's brow creased. "What's so funny?" she asked suspiciously, hoping against hope that he hadn't heard her.  
  
"What- you- said," Seamus managed to get out between bouts of laughter. Lavender turned very red, and got up to leave, horribly embarrassed. However, Seamus stopped her.  
  
"Just a minute, missy," he said. "I want to set you straight." Lavender stopped dead in her tracks, wondering what he meant. Was it. . . . could it be. . . . that Seamus hadn't really heard her?  
  
"I haven't fallen for you, Lav, if that was what was upsetting you," he said kindly. "Although, I don't see how any girl would cry if I had fallen for them. I mean, come on, I, Seamus Finnigan, repelling girls? Never!" Lavender was starting to relax. He hadn't heard her. "Where did you find that out, anyway? If you ask me, your crystal ball needs some repairs or something." Lavender laughed outright.  
  
"It was tea leaves, actually," she lied, covering for herself. If she could just work her way out of trouble, everything would be fine.  
  
"I didn't know you bothered with tea leaves anymore, now that you've mastered palmistry and crystal-gazing." Lavender shrugged.  
  
"It holds the best answers, on occasion," she replied.  
  
"Oh, so you were GLAD that I had supposedly fallen for you?" Seamus asked shrewdly. Lavender could've hit herself for her stupid comment.  
  
"Er. . . .please note that I said 'on occasion'. This did not happen to be one of those rare occasions." Seamus nodded doubtfully, letting her know that he thought otherwise.  
  
"Whatever you say, Lav, whatever you say," he told her, grinning. "Now shoo, I've got to get dressed." He paused, taking in her dressing gown and slippers. "And so do you," he added. Lavender hurried off to her dormitory, mentally wiping her forehead, and congratulating herself on not revealing what she had really said. Seamus, meanwhile, was clapping himself on the back for not revealing HIS feeling for Lavender. . . .  
  
"Wait a minute," Seamus said out loud. "WHAT feelings? I DON'T like Lavender, it's as simple as that."  
  
"Don't be so sure," the bathroom mirror said to him, causing him to jump. He turned on the tap, letting the hot water gush out.  
  
"Shuttup," he muttered angrily at the mirror. "I forgot that you talk."  
  
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Harry yawned.and sat bolt upright. He struggled to reach his watch on his bedside table, and read that it was quarter past ten. He threw the watch on the ground furiously.  
  
"Bloody hell," he cursed. Quidditch practice had begun fifteen minutes ago, and the final match was the next weekend. What would the team think if their captain arrived late? Harry was willing to bet that it wouldn't be positive.  
  
He leapt out of bed, ran to the bathroom, splashed cold water onto his face, and pulled on his Quidditch practice robes. Once he was dressed, he grabbed his broomstick and pelted down the stairs and out the portrait hole, heading for the Great Hall to grab a piece of toast. He couldn't practice on an empty stomach.  
  
However, when he reached the Great Hall, he saw a sight that made his stomach drop. It was Ron and Hermione, each grinning goofily at the other. No. . . .he thought. This isn't happening. . . . it wasn't that he didn't want them to go out. He did. It was just that now they were probably both mad at him, and now it was two against one.  
  
But Harry didn't have time to stand there and mull it over. He continued his run to the Gryffindor table, grabbed a piece of toast and some bacon from the end farthest from his two friends, and rushed out to the Quidditch pitch, stuffing his breakfast in his mouth. As he reached the team, he realized that there were only five players awaiting him.  
  
"Oh yeah. . . ." he muttered. "Ron's in there, with Hermione." Lovely. Harry was quite tempted to go in there and break up their little Look- Lovingly-At-Each-Other fest, but he knew that the two of them would only get madder at him. He decided to give Ron a long lecture about missing practice later. For now, he had the rest of the team to contend with.  
  
"Beaters!" Harry barked as he walked up. If he sounded very authoritative, perhaps no one would mention his tardiness. "Target practice, now! We need you to be able to throw Slytherin's seeker off course with those Bludgers, and you've got a long way to go." Dean Thomas scowled at him, while Seamus went to get the targets, muttering darkly about overwork.  
  
"Chasers, I want you to practice shooting on our Keeper. That way, you'll all be improving." Ginny, the Keeper, nodded and mounted her broom, taking a practice loop around the goal posts, then settling in front of the middle one. The Creevey brothers mounted their brooms too, grabbing the quaffle on their way. Ron, the other Chaser, wasn't present.  
  
Harry then let the Snitch out to catch. "Well, if this doesn't take my mind off things, nothing will," he muttered to himself.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Hermione and Ron chatted happily over eggs and toast, both trying to act as though everything was normal (except they weren't fighting) but both ended up grinning like idiots.  
  
He DOES like me! Hermione's mind was shouting. It was too good to be true. And she was right, she suddenly realized: it WAS too good to be true. If Ron ever found out she had cheated to help him win those galleons. . . well, Hermione had a suspicion their relationship wouldn't last much longer.  
  
Ron was laughing at something Hermione had said when he saw her eyes widen suddenly. She leaped up.  
  
"Er, Ron, I've got to go talk to Professor Dumbledore about something. . . meet you in the common room!" And with that, she dashed out of the Great Hall. Ron watched her go, bewildered. Had he said something?  
  
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When Lavender got down to breakfast, she noticed Parvati sitting alone. "Where's Dean?" she automatically asked, sitting down next to the dark- haired girl and grabbing a plate.  
  
"Quidditch practice," Parvati snapped. Lavender sensed a touchy subject.  
  
"Yeah, and?"  
  
"What do you mean?" Parvati asked, knowing perfectly well what she meant but not wanting to say it.  
  
"Did you two have a fight or something?" Lavender asked. Parvati shook her head emphatically, then slowly nodded.  
  
"Sort of. I asked him why he couldn't just skip a few minutes of Quidditch to have breakfast with me, since Ron obviously was, but NO, Quidditch is his first priority."  
  
"Listen, Vati, he probably just doesn't want to get in trouble. . . you know Harry, he takes his captain responsibilities so seriously! It's no big deal. Why don't you just go out there and watch the practice or something, and eat lunch with him?" It looked as if a light was going on in Parvati's head.  
  
"Good idea. Want to come? You know, to watch Sea-mus," she said, adding a bit of a sing-song lilt to Seamus's name. Lavender blushed, remembering the incident that morning, but didn't back down. Hermione had Ron, Parvati had Dean, and she was alone. Not for long, if she could help it!  
  
"Yes, let's go." And with that, the two girls set off to the Quidditch pitch.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron was halfway up to his dormitory when he remembered that he was an hour late for Quidditch practice.  
  
"Bloody hell!" He swore furiously, grabbing his Cleansweep 7, and setting off at a run to the pitch. "Harry's going to kill me," he muttered. He checked his watch. At least he would be there for the last two hours of practice. He pushed himself to go faster, forgetting all about his promise to meet Hermione in the common room.  
  
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Hermione arrived at Professor Dumbledore's office slightly out of breath. She gave the password (cockroach cluster) and stepped on the moving staircase, allowing it to carry her up to Dumbledore's office. She knocked on his door.  
  
"Come in," he called, and she opened the door, suddenly realizing she didn't know what she was going to say.  
  
"Er, Professor, there's something I've got to tell you. . . ." Dumbledore nodded, motioning for her to sit down and continue. This she did. "When we were taking our last N.E.W.T.S. test, I, well, er. . . .I cheated. Not to win, mind you! To lose.  
  
"You see, I realized that Ron deserved the galleons more than I did, as you know, and, well. . . cheated. I put the wrong answer down, in hopes that he would win. But now we're tied, and I don't know what to do! And if Ron ever finds out-" Hermione broke off.  
  
"I see," Dumbledore said delicately. "A difficult situation. I was planning on having you take a tiebreaker, but I see now that that wouldn't be fair, you'd only cheat again. . ." Hermione turned crimson. He must think I'm a liar and cheater now! She thought.  
  
"Just give the galleons to Ron," she pleaded. "I don't want them, I really don't."  
  
"I am aware of that, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, silencing her. She winced. She wasn't usually the one being silenced. "However, there are the circumstances. . . just giving the galleons to Ron would hurt his pride. I assumed you realized that. . ." Hermione reddened yet again.  
  
"You could. . . .say that you miscounted, and Ron really won," she suggested, but Dumbledore stamped on that one.  
  
"I will not lie, Miss Granger, it is against my moral values. I could, perhaps, give them to the second place winner. . ." he paused, checking his files. "Ah, no, that was a tie also."  
  
"Between who?" Hermione asked, curious.  
  
"Padma Patil, and Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as Hermione made a face.  
  
Hermione suddenly noticed the time. "Listen Professor, I need to go, I just. . . .thought you should know." Dumbledore nodded and dismissed her. Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor tower, only to find that Ron wasn't there. She asked a first year if anyone had seen him.  
  
"He left in a hurry about ten minutes ago," the first year informed her. Hermione stared at the girl, thunderstruck. 'Left in a hurry. . . .?' But. . . that would mean he didn't want to see her! Hermione sank into a poofy armchair, fishing for possible reasons why Ron might've left.  
  
Did he know?  
  
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A/N: And I'm going to have to leave it here for tonight! Thank me, cos I'm going to have to get up at like five o'clock to do all the homework I wasn't doing while writing this. Please review! 


	9. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: You know the drill by now. I don't own 'em.  
  
A/N: First of all, thanks so much to the people who have reviewed, especially RonsInnerVoice, CurlsofGold, and Jishka. I really wouldn't be writing this if it weren't for all your support. Second, I know that last chapter wasn't very fluffy, and you're gonna have to wait for more Ron/Hermione fluff. . . sorry about that. But don't worry, there's always Lavender and Seamus! So anyway, onward!  
  
Hermione sat in the common room, completely zoned out, ignoring everyone else. Ron must know, she thought. It was the only possible explanation for why he hadn't met her like he had promised. She closed her eyes and put her head down on the table in front of her. Their relationship had barely begun, and already she had messed it up.  
  
Hermione sat back up, finger-combing her hair. She'd meet Ron at lunch and apologize straight away, before any more damage was done. Until then, she decided to find Harry. He wasn't his dormitory, she knew, because she asked Neville on his way out the portrait hole, and she couldn't find him in the common room. So, she decided to set off for the library, although she had no idea why he'd be there.  
  
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"And he gave me this," Parvati squealed, showing Lavender a pretty silver bracelet. Lavender nodded, feigning disinterest. She had been listening to Parvati talk about every single romantic thing Dean had ever said to her, and she was starting to get rather jealous and extremely annoyed with Parvati for bragging. She was quite glad when she saw the team descend and dismount their brooms.  
  
"Right then," Harry said loudly. "Practice every afternoon this week, four thirty to seven thirty, and dinner afterwards." The team all nodded, the Creevey brothers groaning loudly.  
  
"That's three hours a night, Harry," Dennis piped up. Colin nodded.  
  
"Come on, you know we're going to win," he said.  
  
"You're working us like madmen, Harry," Seamus complained.  
  
Dean added, "You're starting to remind me of Wood."  
  
"Listen, all of you!" Harry roared. "Do we want to win the Cup or not? It's my last year here, Dean, Seamus and Ron's, as well. We haven't got another chance. This is it. Take it or leave it. Are you in?" Slowly, everyone nodded, even the Creeveys. The team then headed to the Gryffindor locker room to change, and met Parvati and Lavender at the entrance to the castle.  
  
"Nice practice, guys," Parvati said enthusiastically, taking Dean's arm. He smiled at her, and Lavender felt a pang of jealousy. She smiled bitter- sweetly. If only I were half so lucky. . . she thought, sighing. Parvati didn't understand at all. Every time she tried to talk about her chances with Seamus, Parvati cut in, talking about her and Dean's romantic kisses and walks by the lake, dismissing Lavender's troubles as frivolous.  
  
Suddenly, Lavender didn't want to have lunch with Parvati and Dean anymore. She had a strong urge to run up to her dormitory and cry, and then talk to Hermione. Lavender wondered why the two of them had never really been friends up until the night before. It was most likely because of Parvati, Lavender decided. Parvati was the one with the pretty hair and beautiful dress robes, the laugh that attracted the boys, and the love for gossip. Lavender was just her sidekick. She was always being stereotyped as the "girly girl". And she was tired of it. In truth, Lavender was quiet, shy, and wanted a friend she could really talk to. She gave good advice, but she wanted some back every now and then. Hermione seemed like someone who would do that, and Lavender promised herself that she would try and hang out with Hermione a lot more in the next two weeks of school.  
  
However, for now, she was roped into eating lunch with Lavender, Dean, and probably the rest of the Gryffindor team, including Seamus. Lavender groaned inwardly. She just wanted to stay away from him. She liked him SO much, but she knew she didn't have a chance with him. It hurt every time she saw him, and when he smiled at her, totally unknowing, her heart broke. Every time she looked at him, she felt a deep ache in the pit of her heart, like someone was twisting a knife through her heart. Her eyes would fill up with tears, and she'd want to cry, but wouldn't be able to. And just as she thought she was finally over him for GOOD, he'd laugh, and she'd fall for him, all over again. It would just be better if she never saw him again, Lavender decided. She would avoid him for the rest of the year, and then leave him WAY behind after their seventh year was finally over.  
  
"Lavender? Lavender? LAVENDER!" Seamus hollered, waving a hand in front of her face. She stumbled, jolted out of her daydream, and he grabbed her arm and held her upright.  
  
"Thanks," she muttered, smiling at him and going red in the face. You're never going to get over him if you think of him like THAT, she shouted at herself inside her head. He let go of her arm and they continued to walk, Seamus looking at her strangely, one eyebrow raised, as if to ask 'what's wrong?' You, Lavender answered silently, but outwardly only grinned at Seamus.  
  
"So, did you all see my spectacular maneuvers?" Seamus asked, wiggling his one raised eyebrow. Parvati looked at him.  
  
"WHAT spectacular maneuvers?" she wanted to know. "You looked like a toddler out on his daddy's broomstick," she said, joking. Seamus mock- cried.  
  
"I thought you looked excellent," Lavender told him, then mentally hit herself. Stop flirting and sucking up to him! She told herself. Give him the cold shoulder or something. "Not," she added coldly. He looked at her again and opened his mouth to say something, but she walked quickly ahead.  
  
"I'm starving," she announced, and rushed into the Great Hall and sat down, sighing in relief. She only hoped Seamus wouldn't sit by her. She didn't know if she could keep snubbing him for a whole meal. No such luck. He sat right across from her.  
  
Parvati helped herself to egg salad, while Seamus took shepherd's pie. Dean was sitting across from Parvati, who was next to Lavender. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the Creeveys had disappeared.  
  
"Guess they weren't hungry," Dean said, shrugging, taking a bite of his corned beef sandwich.  
  
"What, we weren't good enough for them?" Seamus said, putting on a pouty face and sounding hurt.  
  
"Since you're here, no, we weren't," Lavender said, and then burst out laughing. She just couldn't contain herself. Seamus laughed too. At last Lavender managed to sober herself and stop giggling like an idiot. That's it, she thought. I've had enough, I can't do this. She got up to leave.  
  
"Wait!" Seamus caught her arm, a lock of his sandy hair falling into his face. She bit her lip. He's so sweet, she thought before she could stop herself. Seamus cleared her throat. "It's impolite to leave the table while others are still eating," he told her. She scowled. She had thought it might be something a little more than THAT.  
  
"I suppose I must be pretty impolite then," she said, turning on her heel and walking quickly out of the Great Hall. Once in the corridor, she sprinted up to the common room to her dormitory, where she collapsed on the bed, wanting to cry, but she found she couldn't. After all the weeks of wanting to cry, now that she had the opportunity, she couldn't bring the tears to her eyes.  
  
Lavender pounded her pillow with her fist. "I hate you, Seamus," she whispered, but she knew in her heart that it wasn't true. She still loved him, fool that she was.  
  
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Hermione stormed into the Great Hall, hungry, frustrated, upset, and nearly sick with apprehension. Harry hadn't been anywhere that she'd looked, not in the library, his dormitory, the common room, Hagrid's, or even the toilet (she'd yelled in for him, and no one had answered, although one first year came scuttling out, looking frightened.) And Ron wasn't anywhere to be seen either. Hermione was starving and tired after running all over the castle all morning, and she had just resigned herself to lunch alone when she spotted Ron and Harry, eating with the Creevey brothers. She rushed over.  
  
"Ron, can I have a word with you?" she asked tensely. She hated apologizing, especially to Ron, and she felt especially guilty about this. Ron looked up worriedly at her, before standing up himself, and following her to the library. No one was there on a Sunday at lunch time, so Hermione figured they wouldn't be overheard.  
  
"Look, I'm really, really sorry about all of this," she said. Ron looked at her, confused, but Hermione didn't notice this. She plowed onward, barely pausing for breath, trying to get it all out. "I'm terribly sorry, and I just feel so guilty. I don't normally cheat on tests, it's just that I knew you wanted to win so badly, more than I did, and I know I shouldn't have let you win, but I couldn't help it! I had to, or I would've been sorry for the rest of my life!" Ron looked at her, bewildered and shocked, unable to say a word. He gaped like a fish. At last, he managed to find his voice.  
  
"You- you LET me win?" he croaked out. Hermione looked down, ashamed, and nodded. "You mean, you should be the winner. Not me. I'm- me- it's all. . . .just a mistake?"  
  
"I'm so, so sorry," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. A sudden thought occurred to her. She looked up at him. "I thought you knew, and that's why you didn't meet me in the common room, like you said you would." Ron took a step away from her.  
  
"I didn't meet you because I remembered about my Quidditch practice. But don't worry, if I had known about this, I definitely wouldn't have met you. I can't. . . I just can't. . . believe it. I. . ." he swallowed. "I hate you for this, Hermione," he said quietly, his voice full of loathing.  
  
"I'm sorry-"  
  
"I don't deserve those galleons, and you know it. And then you have the nerve to embarrass me with your so-called 'nobility' in front of Dumbledore, trick me into having to accept the money, and, and, I hate you! You're anything but noble. You're. . .you're just as bad as Malfoy!" Hermione gasped, and Ron smiled grimly. THAT had struck a nerve.  
  
"I said I was sorry, Ron, but I guess that just wasn't good enough for you, was it," Hermione spat furiously. "You can forget what I said this morning. I take it back!" She stormed out of the library, running up to her dormitory. She turned to fling herself on her bed, but at the last second caught sight of someone else sitting on it. She caught herself before she fell.  
  
"Lavener?" she asked. The other girl was sitting, staring at the wall, clenching her hands, glassy-eyed and upset-looking. "Are you all right?"  
  
"No," Lavender said, swallowing, and taking in Hermione's tear-filled eyes, red cheeks, and obvious anger. She swallowed again, before bursting into tears.  
  
"Finally," Lavender gasped out. Hermione followed suit, letting the tears flow freely, sitting down and putting her arms around Lavender. They sat together, crying, not caring about anything else but their own sorrows. At last they both managed to stop and sit back, drying their eyes and wiping their cheeks.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hermione said between short breaths cause by her sobbing. "It's just. . ." she stopped, trying very hard not to cry again, and failing. The tears streaked down her cheeks, silently, as her body shook, but she didn't make a sound.  
  
"It's all right," Lavender whispered. "I promise, it has to be. It has to be, it has to be. I don't know what is wrong, but it's going to be all right." Hermione shook her head.  
  
"No, it's not, I've completely ruined everything, and Ron hates me now! I don't blame him," she muttered the last sentence, but Lavender caught it. She sniffed, then placed her hands on her hips.  
  
"All right, Hermione, 'fess up. What have you done?" Hermione sighed, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. She told Lavender the whole story, starting with the cheating on the test, and ending with the argument in the library. Lavender gazed at her, wide-eyed. She took a deep breath, as if she had a lot to say.  
  
"Listen, Hermione, I'm not going to deny that you shouldn't have cheated to let Ron win. . . .it was just wrong, but you know that, and it can't be fixed now, so I suppose we'll just have to let it slip. And I'm ALSO not going to deny that he's going to stay mad for quite awhile. You've just got to apologize again and again, and I guess sort of avoid him- you know, don't be hanging on him- and he'll eventually come around." Hermione looked at her.  
  
"Promise?" Lavender nodded.  
  
"Promise." She sighed, looking at the wall. She had forgotten her own troubles while giving advice to Hermione, but they all came rushing back now. She let out a light, tremulous whimper, and Hermione turned to her.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked concernedly. "I'm sorry, I know you were crying when I came in, I just got. . . preoccupied."  
  
"It's okay," Lavender sniffed, wiping her eyes. She looked at Hermione forlornly, and then it was her turn to spill her entire story. When she finished, Hermione put her arm around Lavender.  
  
"Lavender," she said seriously. "You KNOW you're not going to get over him. Oh, come on," she said, as Lavender opened her mouth to protest. "You really, really like him, so. . . ."  
  
Lavender interrupted her. "How about I crystal-gaze, and find out if I really will get over him," she suggested excitedly. "THEN you can give me your advice. Hey, and we can look at your and Ron's future, too!" Hermione looked doubtfully at her.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive," Lavender declared, getting her crystal orb out of her trunk. She set it down on the bed and looked into it, both girls' faces lit by the foggy glow.  
  
"I can see something. . ."  
  
A/N: Oooh, don't you just love me? Hate me? Or both? Sorry to leave you hanging, I'll fill you in on what they see soon, never fear! Review, please, I need more reviews! 


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